The Tracker
by old chuck
Summary: There is another Tucker, meant to be a story in Bluenblack's Father to the man series.
1. Trouble

_ Ar'len boarded the transport without difficulty. She merely had to show her card to the barge officer who looked the other way as payment warranted. The space in the cargo hold was narrow and cramped. First the ice planet passed by the small view port, then the other one with plumes of fire which seemed like smoldering eyes. At last the final world which appeared as unforgiving as its neighbors came into view. Her shoes were ill-suited for the desert sand, the heat was almost unbearable. After catching sight of the circular city below she donned a robe and proceeded to the coordinates given to her. She moved more swiftly on the stone walkways, her form darting among the crowd. If anyone noticed her she was dismissed as an insignificant outsider. The double doors awaited and the stone steps were an unforgiving contrast to her aching bones. Her employers every contact had been needed to grant her access as an observer, she dared not make the slightest mistake. She saw her prey immediately. He was sitting attentively by the other officers of the Earth service. The blond headed man was speaking. He spoke softly and his words were warm, he was making a deal with the Tellarites, who were doubtful of being in league with the Andorians. Her prey never moved from his seat until the negotiations of the day were ended. Then he began his journey to the compound alone. She moved silently through the streets until she came close behind him. He noticed her then and turned to her with a question on his lips. She grabbed him forcefully and attempted to access his mind, He proved to be more resistant than she would have thought possible but it did him no good, she fed on his thoughts, devoured his emotions. When she was done he fell to the ground in a discarded heap._

* * *

Ganlas looked over the crowd carefully his strong sense of smell picking up the scent of the dozens of species that roamed the station. This was Galdonterre a subtropical world on the fringes of the borderland where thieves of every description congregated. It was not a place where Vulcans normally cared to go but it was logical to establish contacts here to contend with the various local governments that had possible interests in the syndicate. He glanced at his companion and clan member P'tel; the young woman was especially expressionless and detached as she surveyed the crowd. Her youthful appearance hid the impressive amount of experience in which her career in the ministry of security gave her.

If Ganlas had been an emotional being he would have pitied her but the teachings of Surak were ingrained in him so deeply that to wrest them from his bosom was akin to wrenching the Katric Ark from the rocks of T'hath. Only once in his entire lifetime had he shown emotion outside of the ravings of the dreaded Pon Farr and that was when he had experienced the intoxicating effects of chocolate. The stimulation had proven more than his countenance could bear and served to put a smile on his human Krel (cousin) thankfully Trip was the only individual to witness the event unfold and under oath swore to keep it secret. A more loyal man never lived.

It was well to secure the loyalty of Vulcan's Terran allies Ganlas reflected, he had made the decision to aid in the effort to gain the elusive trust and loyalty of the people that had led to the ceasing of hostilities between the ice dwellers of Andoria and his people. His efforts mainly consisted of gaining the trust of his new human clan member but as Surak himself wrote "with a single stone the foundation of fortresses are laid." The first stones had been laid so to speak and the first foundations of peace in the sector that included Vulcan, Earth, Andoria, and Tellar had recently been begun. He did not believe it would be as fruitful as the humans hoped but he realized it was a step towards a worthy goal.

His companion however, had not been involved, she had only briefly seen a human at the annual family gathering and had only hearsay to guide her in her thinking which fortunately was not as much to be feared P'tel never listened overly to gossip. She was only interested in her career and refined her skills to a sharp edge. She would never articulate it but he suspected that she was impatient with a mundane task such as the one that presented itself to them. Their assignment was to retrieve an important artifact believed to have been taken from P'jem before the monastery was destroyed. It had been acquired by an unknown party and a meeting had been set up to obtain it if it proved authentic. The coordinates given indicated a private corner away from the crowd. The corner was dusty and unused; though there was evidence of some sort of equipment removal signifying previous usage. Ganlas was fairly certain that funds would have to be handed over for even a simple scan. Such requirements meant that the individual had something to hide, an all too common condition in The Syndicate.

The man that stood before them was wearing simple clothing that appeared to have been used regularly. He looked at them "Vulcan punctuality has it benefits, I guess" there was an odd familiarity in the voice though it was the voice of a stranger. The man stepped forward "let us arrive at the point, I have something ta give you" he lifted his right hand into their view. Gently held in his hand was an object wrapped in cloth. "If you would take it I could be on my way." P'tel received the object with a deadpan expression. Ganlas was puzzled "you do not wish to bargain a price?" But the man was gone as quickly as he came.

For once in his career he had been surprised. He did not show any of the turmoil that this unexpected turn of events had briefly caused. He merely turned to his companion "observations?" P'tel attentively watched the stranger's retreating back "an odd meeting to be certain but direct when it came down to business. Also the odor was …unpleasant." Ganlas cringed slightly "that was a human" he informed her. "Fascinating" she said somewhat surprised. _A human on Galdonterre, _humans were showing much too often as of late, Ganlas thought.

* * *

"As long as you're here you should try the hot springs to the south of the Arila range. Believe me you do not want to miss it". Athen had sat down at the local bar and ordered. The brew had come and he had found it to be lacking but not by much. "Now, where is that?" The barkeep seemed only too happy to oblige, his red eyebrow ridges twitching excitedly as he talked. "It is only several hours journey by pod." Athen considered this not liking the idea; he glanced around briefly wondering if the Vulcans had followed him in here. Of course they had not. "How far on foot?" the bartender blinked sending his eye ridges in so much of a twitch that Athen wondered if the man was having some sort of an attack. The man sputtered "I suppose it would take one all day to get there, but what would be the pleasure in that?" Athen ignored the question asking another one of his own. "Is there a place that's sorta out of the way of folks that travel around?" The bartender had difficulty following the garbled speech so he tried to reason it out. "You wish to walk to a completely isolated area?" Athen nodded "That's right" the bartender thought about it for a moment "well, I suppose that there are a few springs on the far side. It is very rocky and nearly impossible to transverse. Also, there is a species of marsupial that inhabits the trees in the area it emits a high pitched squeaking sound when alarmed " Athen slowly put his empty glass on the counter and sat quietly, he desperately wanted to move his position since several of his muscles were sore. He looked up "You said the far side?" The bartender gave him a nod and Athen noticed he was looking behind him. A big Nausican had entered the establishment and was walking toward them. Athen asked for another drink and the bartender fumbled with the bottle barely making the glass. A few drops graced the bar and Athen carefully kept his hands off it. This one was blue and he found it more to his liking. The Nausican stood abreast of them and glowered, the bartender was nervous, Athen could care less. He stood up to leave and the Nausican turned to glare at him "You don't like my company human?" Athen turned halfway towards the bar "I'm on a tight schedule. I gotta head south before the weather turns cold." The Nausican was incredulous "Cold?" Athen nodded solemnly "I can feel it in my bones." The Nausican laughed "The Romulan Ale has gone to your head, human." He raised his glass and downed most of it in a single swallow, there was a clink as the glass hit the bar. "You humans can't 'feel it in your bones' when we raid your ships, not unless we stick a sword through you." He snorted in laughter. Athen had always been lenient "maybe we can't do anything about it." The Nausican laughed long and hard he shook his finger at Athen "you don't even try." Athen shrugged "That's true for the most part. A lost cargo is better than a dead crew." The man smiled his taunting smile "You're all cowards." Pain seized him and the Nausican began to laugh, Athen drew his disrupter and hit the larger man across the teeth. Yellowish blood dribbled down the Nausican's chin and he tried to speak but couldn't, Athen hit him again across the temple and the man fell to the floor of the establishment. He turned to the bartender and flipped him a coin. The bartender struggled to catch and did so barely. He noticed the stem cell was cracked open so he threw his now ruined disruptor in the waste disposal unit. "Might want to buy him a drink" he walked out leaving the small crowd of onlookers behind. Outside he nearly staggered as he braced himself against the building. Seconds passed before he moved again. The bartender came out and looked him over and handed him a bottle that contained a lighter blue liquid. Athen looked up at him "Andorian ale. You should leave tonight."


	2. Let the games begin

Trip carefully opened the package. His fingers tearing the seal that locked the packages contents inside, He knew that the package had been checked with scanning equipment at least a half dozen times. Ordinarily he would be bothered by this intrusion into his privacy, but he could not rule out the possibility of an explosive hidden somewhere, so he did not dare complain. He was hoping that a gift from home would take his mind off recent events. The package finally opened and he reached inside to find an object covered in cloth. T'pol stood close waiting to see what was in the package. Trip began to unwrap the cloth slowly, when he had finished he held it up in surprise. T'pol had never seen anything that resembled it before. It was wooden, flat with a hoop of wood at the top and rope hanging in a net under it and a section was at what she assumed was the bottom creating a shelf. Trip picked up the handwritten note that had fluttered out of the package after he obviously had read it he laughed. "What is it"? she asked curiously" It's a cradleboard" he turned the object around for her to see "you put your baby in it and put these straps on your shoulders to keep your hands free". She was intrigued "a most logical form of infant transportation, though I fail to see why such an object would cause amusement". He grinned "It's from my cousin Draco…my third cousin. The board is measured for my shoulders not yours" he tried to explain. T'pol was still confused "logical since he undoubtedly does not know mine". Trip looked at her "with anybody else that would be all there is to it but Draco is trying to say I do the woman's work in the house". T'pol looked him in the eye "I perceive that this is a joke based on an ancient social arrangement" Trip sighed nodding "you could say that. Draco got his brand of humor from my grandfather Cyrus". T'pol listened carefully hoping to glean some of Trip's family history to tutor her daughter with. She was mildly irritated when the door chimed. Trip went to answer it as the custom ordained. When he opened the door he found a Vulcan he had never seen before standing in front of him. He raised his hand when the Vulcan gave the salute, hoping to soon send the visitor on his way. "I am Stor" the Vulcan told them "I regret to inform you that Captain Archer is unconscious and is under the Denobulan doctor's care, you have been summoned. You must follow me". The Vulcan left without another word giving them no choice but to follow after. There was an air car waiting for them outside. After getting in the vehicle they settled in for the ride to the medical center. Trip felt empty, there was no end to trouble on this planet, he thought of the Kahs -wan the very thing that he had somehow prevented from happening to him had just happened to his friend. At least fortunately the man was alive. He stared out of the small window until they reached the familiar dome of the hospital. The car touched the ground with ease. Trip opened the door and was soon out, followed by T'pol. The walkway was oddly contrasted eerily glowing in the light from t'kut. He found his way into the double doors which opened when he stepped in front of them. The doorway was monitored for his arrival he guessed. The room he was shown was all too familiar being the same room he had visited on all his trips to the hospital. Phlox was in the room with the first Minister T'pau. The captain, as Trip had come to think of him as these several years, was on a biobed, he turned toward them. "There is nothing to be done at the moment. Captain Archer is not responding to any stimuli though I believe he may be somewhat conscious. T'pol looked at him "you are suggesting he is in a comatose state". The doctor nodded somberly "I had no idea what could have caused this condition at first. He was in fine health. However, I do have a theory, there appeared to be signs of some sort of neural convulsion in the captain's brain". T'pol considered what the doctor had just said "you believe that the captain was violated telepathically". "It fits no known pattern but yes I believe so". T'pau spoke up then "there are motives to putting the captain out of the picture". T'pol was interested "I would like to examine the evidence personally". T'pau inclined her head "If you would prefer to lead the investigation you may do so". T'pol made her decision quickly "that would be logical". Trip finally spoke softly he did not look at his wife "Jon has no family to care for his needs. I am going to file custody until he wakes up again". He felt taking care of Jonathan, was his personal responsibility.

* * *

"You are certain he has not left?" P'tel watched the impatient man before her. The man was plainly nervous and fidgeted constantly giving an air of indecisiveness and possible guilt. In the ministry of security she had been taught to recognize emotions beyond what she could sense from others. "His shipmates have not returned to retrieve him yet." It had been explained to them that the human had been given shore leave and the ship was not slated to return in two days. In the meantime the human had gone into the jungle several hours after staging an unprovoked attack on a fellow patron. The victim was not available for questioning because of injuries sustained during the altercation.

Ganlas made a decision "we will handle the situation and bring him to face the penalties of his own government." The man inclined his head once "Getting him off world will be enough for the moment, there is nothing further to discuss" he turned slowly and walked off. While the man was walking, Ganlas turned to P'tel who had remained silent but attentive throughout the entire exchange "I have other duties to perform, proving the authenticity of the artifact is certainly a priority. Your assignment will be to intercept this human and bring him in for questioning." Her face was deadpan "I will perform my duty." Since it was illogical to reply Ganlas said nothing further.

P'tel quickly gathered the few supplies she believed necessary for the capture of an unarmed human male and journeyed to the bar where the incident took place. The conversation still was on the subject making it unnecessary to make inquiries. Before the midnight hour she was already headed south.

* * *

Athen had walked all night; a small night vision sensor was his only piece of technology. Many of the trees were gnarled; he saw little young stuff or what he considered young stuff. Tall, knotted and twisted, some even twisted together. In places there was no moonlight, in others dark shadows were cast that fed the imagination, mostly the moon shone through like in the swamps that dotted the gulf region of North America. He followed the path a ways to see where the most used springs were, the tracks all pointed to the northeast, so he changed direction to head southwest. He intended to get as far away from other people as he drank from the bottle for the third time that early morning, before he saw the birds fly up. There were two of them, one behind the other. They had both been startled by his presence and he watched them carefully for awhile. He was getting jumpy no doubt but he felt he was being followed. The hair on the back of his neck had stood up at one point back there a ways and he began to wish he had a pair of binoculars. He'd make for that hill ahead anyway and look around. He soon realized there was nothing to be seen except the tree line. He waited a bit watching it before he turned to leave. Then he realized that the squat looking creatures in the trees were agitated, shrieking loudly in the distance. They had not done anything when he passed during the night. He had made little fuss in the underbrush taking his time until he came upon a large group of them in a tree. He had a suspicion even then of being followed, judging by the bartender's reaction, so he fashioned a trip wire by peeling the outer layer off of a thick vine and staking it across the path leaving it concealed with leaves. When a person fell they should excite whatever creatures lurked above. When he heard a distinct shrieking he nearly smiled.

* * *

P'tel slowly pushed herself to her knees and then to her feet careful that she triggered no further traps, there did not seem to be any. The vine lay on the ground broken off the stakes that had supported it. She noted that the vine was designed to break off the stakes to prevent the trap from being a danger to other travelers. She had been walking, careful not to agitate the creatures eating the berries in the trees, now there seemed to be no end to their calls. She straightened her bag and started walking with much more caution. She realized that her quarry knew he was being followed altering her plans for his capture. Humans were a curious species perhaps that curiosity would be his downfall. Some part of her enjoyed the prospect of pitting her skills against an opponent, though she buried it carefully. She considered whether her quarry would continue to the southern range she decided it was more than obvious he would not. She pulled out her Tricorder and began tracking. The tracks were several hours old apparently her quarry had not stopped to rest during the night. She had read that humans tired out more quickly than Vulcans. She decided her plan of action would be to continue to pursue him until he became unable to function. She regretted her lack of preparation, obviously this was an individual accustomed to living in primitive environments. But as she had brought little, he had brought less. Time was the main factor to consider: she would be unable to make her deadline.


End file.
